Calendar Shoot
by 00000009
Summary: Repost: Christmas Eve is taken up with a celebrity calendar photo shoot. Featuring a singularly difficult racer, a charming violinist and one impossible creative director. Quick, fun one-shot. Complete.


"This is stupid."

"It's the season for giving and…"

"Giving more face time for damn sponsorship."

"You don't want to support the charity?"

"Ha! Y'know I'm curious about how much actually _ends up_ with the charity!"

"Please. You're not curious; you're cranky and obstinate. I'm paid far too well to believe anything else."

"You're paid far too well, full stop."

"I know, I know, just stop squirming or I'll never tie this properly."

"I _know_ how to do my own bowtie."

"Yes, but we need it done properly… and in less than half-an-hour."

"Why?" Tenoh Haruka finally stepped back from her long-suffering agent.

The December air that whipped through the makeshift changing stall was bitterly cold. Who the hell thought it was a cool idea to spend the morning dressing up like a wedding-cake-topper?

"You're only making this worse for yourself." Shimano spoke shaking his graying head. He was near certain the ageing process had increased rapidly following the promotion to his current occupation. Agent. Otherwise known "he who would negotiate the turbulent public persona of Tenoh – arrogant racer, general show-off, serial womanizer and closeted cross-dresser". It was fun, actually.

"Who's this girl I have to pose with anyway?"

"Oh, she's lovely really…"

"Huh?" Unlikely.

"Yes." Shimano spoke firmly. "Very well-spoken, wonderfully mannered and charmingly dressed… but you would have known all of this had you been bothered to turn up to the meeting last Friday morning."

"I'm not into this high-brow, fake smile, schmoozing bull-shit."

"Is that what you'd like me to tell her?"

"Tell her she can kiss my ass."

"Really?" Shimano spoke wryly, hardly unfamiliar with such childish outbursts.

"I was busy that morning."

"Ms. Tenoh, although I'm sure you believe you are exempt from such rules as govern the remainder of the population, for most of us, staying in bed until noon with a woman introduced the previous night does not constitute a reasonable excuse for being absent from a significant meeting!" Shimano took a moment to catch his breath.

Tenoh finally grinned at the reprimand. "It should. Anyway, you can get off your high horse, whoever it is has still turned up, everything's intact and the mind-numbing photo shoot is going ahead. Unfortunately."

"'_Whoever it is'_ happens to be Kaioh Michiru."

"I… don't think I've met her…"

"No, I doubt you would have, she's far too well-educated to have fallen onto your list of conquests. And I seriously doubt she would be seen dead mixing in the kind of places you choose to frequent."

"What? So she's a nun?"

"A concert violinist, actually."

"Close enough."

"I can't have a serious conversation when you're being like this…"

"No… but it sounds like you wouldn't mind a… serious conversation with … whoever-it-is…"

"It's Kaioh Michiru!" Shimano said a little too forcefully, then looked away, hand to chest. "And she's a lady and a respected artist and I certainly wouldn't think of her in such a way." He brusquely straightened his charge's tuxedo jacket and spun her in the direction of the doorway.

"Whatever." Tenoh muttered, raising an eyebrow.

Staggering into the light of the arena, Haruka was slightly appalled at how quickly the race circuit could be transformed into the location of a ludicrous photo shoot. Stalls that should house mechanics were vacated. Lighting equipment, techy stuff and a chaos of the junk that people needed to survive for a single morning was littered over the field. And she was in a goddam suit. There seemed an abundance of beardy, skinny guys, weakly hoisting expensive equipment, sporting backwards caps, shorts and nervous laughs. Brilliant. She broke through a cluster who had congregated to marvel at her prized vehicle that was (thankfully) intended to be included in the frame.

"Tenoh… It's Tenoh Haruka…" One such beardy man hissed conspiratorially. She turned, unimpressed to look over the bug-eyed gathering, easily a head taller than the entire group.

She folded her arms.

"So why the suit? Is this supposed to be some kind of James Bond arrangement?"

There was a pregnant pause before one spluttered.

"Is… Do you want that Mr. Tenoh?" Haruka rolled her eyes, it seemed like a bad idea to cause any anxiety induced asthma attacks.

"Who should I be reporting to?" There was a rally of inconsistent pointed signals, though most aimed to her left."

"Mr. Tenoh!" Came a booming, jubilant voice. "Don't you look charming!" A flamboyantly-scarved, large man in a beret waddled over with a chuckle.

Brilliant.

"That's the idea, I guess." She half-smiled boredly.

"Goodness, you remind me so of my nephew… He's also sixteen and moody!" The man broke into a roar of laughter while heavily slapping his model on the back.

"I'm not six-uh…" She swallowed in surprise at the push. Not conventional then.

Shimano, cringing, was near making preparations for a natural disaster after seeing the expression on his employer's face. "Is, ahem, Ms. Kaioh ready?" Haruka attempted her best amicable tone, well aware any explosion would only prolong the entire experience.

"I believe so." The voice came lightly from their backs. Haruka turned slowly, looking across the throng of stupefied assistants to see the only (other) female in the stadium pad serenely towards the gathering. Well, she was stunning. In the enclosure of irrelevant workers, morning chill and metal clutter, Kaioh moved gracefully, cutting an amazing figure in a silk dress of deep red that rippled with the slow progress of her slender limbs. Politely amused by the attention she was subjected to, she lifted her head, allowing her waved hair to fall softly over her shoulders, raising her eyes to look angelically to Tenoh, who felt suddenly out of place, caught in the spotlight.

This was no time to be another ineffectual goon. Haruka stepped forward, offering her hand, which Kaioh took and shook with surprising confidence.

"Good to meet you, Ms. Kaioh." She spoke matter-of-factly. "I hope we can work together… efficiently."

"Efficiently?" Kaioh giggled behind her hand. "The pleasure is all mine, I'm quite excited to watch your next season…"

"My…? Uh, well, of course I'm a, uh, fan of your…classical…?" She mentally cursed herself for so quickly disregarding Shimano's diatribe.

"Violin. Please, it's alright, I never expected you would take an interest in such pursuits." She smiled mildly.

"Ha." Tenoh breathed nervously. "Well, if you promise not to tell," She continued in a whisper, "I did play the piano…"

"Really?"

"Uh huh." Tenoh shrugged. "Now, it's only really if I'm trying to charm a woman into… y'know, never mind." She suddenly remembered herself. Kaioh looked on amused.

"Have you met with…?" She indicated with her thumb, again realizing she was not in possession of vital information. "…this guy?"

"Kuji, so good to see you again." The large man half engulfed her in a generous hug.

"My dear, you are a vision, oh, we mustn't mess your hair." He held her back at arms length to admire her. "We're just finishing the set up, you wouldn't mind catching up with Mr. Tenoh here, would you?… I'll send someone over to brief you on the plans…"

"Oh?"

"We've had another cancellation, your agent assured me you would be available to complete two separate shoots."

"Really?" Michiru swallowed down a bitter taste of injustice, she had been near certain her agent was capable of excusing her from the second shoot. This was for charity. Celebrity charity calendar… not that she wouldn't have run a mile had she anyone of significance to enjoy Christmas Eve with…

"Hey, tough break, Kaioh." Haruka smirked into a cup recently distributed by one of the many lackeys.

"Mr. Tenoh?" She frowned. "I'm sure you wouldn't put personal comfort before such a just cause."

"Huh. You don't know me so well." Tenoh sipped nonchalantly.

"Perhaps not." She looked away. "May I ask, what is that you're drinki- oh…" She was startled by the instantaneous presentation of three different mugs from three separate assistants… "Thank you." She took the closest from a man who blushed, merely mouthing 'you're welcome' before scuttling away.

"Tenoh Haruka and Kaioh Michiru. So good of you to be here for these sessions, we really appreciate you giving your time on such a day." A small man spoke clearly and genuinely. "We really couldn't have predicted there would have been such support from local celebrities, and then we were just certain it was going to fall to pieces after those basketballers had to pull out."

"Huh?" Haruka managed a moment of minor interest. "Which basketballers?"

"Oh, you know, the ones you're covering for in the next shoot…"

"Next? I thought that was her gig?"

"Were you not informed?"

"He couldn't attend the meeting last week." Michiru supplied, smiling.

"Oh dear, well now you know." He spoke cheerily. Haruka held the bridge of her nose and muttered under her breath. The small man looked up then back. "I think they're ready for you."

Haruka strutted over to her vehicle, grinning at its glossy appearance in the artificial lighting. It seemed the machine had to appear as polished as its human counterparts for the picture. Kaioh followed at a more respectable pace, relaying her impression with an appreciative smile to the general team. The temperature turned up a notch.

"Okay… models!" The formerly introduced Kuji, clapped his hands with gusto.

"Now, it may seem we have had some organizational difficulties, but the shoot itself should be brilliant!"

"Why… is that?" Haruka spoke skeptically.

"We know the winning formula for any work…"

"So you've come up with an original idea for the frame?" Kaioh questioned politely.

"Er… no, that's not…"

"But you've decided where you want us?" Haruka raised an eyebrow.

"Ah… not quite… it's really going to involve some creative input on your behalf…"

"So what is it that you _do_ know?" The blonde cut in.

"Sex sells!"

"Excuse me?" Kaioh looked stunned.

"I'm out." Haruka turned.

"Wait, wait, please, my dears, it isn't as it sounds…"

"Huh." The tallest folded her arms. "'Cause it isn't sounding so good from this side…"

"Let me explain, what I mean to say is," the large man took a moment to collect himself, "well, we're dealing with a celebrity photo shoot, our buyers aren't after artistic shots…"

"The tabloid theory of selling…" Kaioh sighed.

"We aim to create something a bit better than…"

"What's the bottom line here?" Haruka spoke impatiently.

"We're going for 'sexy,' which is not to say tasteless – just the kind of thing a housewife might choose to buy…"

"I wouldn't downplay the appetites of housewives…" The racer muttered, before coughing into her fist at the questioning glances of her co-workers-to-be.

"Very well," Kaioh turned back to the director, "if it's all in good taste, we'll go ahead…"

"Marvelous, marvelous!" He spun back to the anxious-looking crew. "Let's make magic."

Apparently someone had spiked the potion – because after forty five minutes of posing and re-arranging, in the car, on the car, in-front, behind and even below

the car, there hadn't been adequate 'magic' for Kuji to permit his photographer to snap a single shot. The crew looked haggard, hair and make-up artists were threatened with death, should they make one more attempt on Michiru's fellow model, who was now changed into his fire suit. Tenoh claimed appearing 'vulnerable-yet-wild-and-attractive-in-an-unkempt- manner' did not constitute a "look," though he claimed he could impose such an appearance on the make-up artist through the strategic enforcement of 'that goddam lip gloss stick.'

Michiru had tried not to laugh. Her failure in this attempt had resulted in further repositioning. Even with years of being groomed into the carefully restrained and patient young woman she was today, Kaioh Michiru was conscious of being near the point of either laughing or crying uncontrollably.

"Chemistry people, chemistry!"

"Damnit, Kuji, I hated science!" Tenoh exploded. "Either you be explicit, or nothing's going to happen. I just don't care anymore! Anything! I'll do it, if you just explain it!"

"Anything?" The man suddenly stopped and smiled quietly.

Tenoh swallowed, then continued quietly: "What are you so adamant the national population of housewives wants to see?"

"Shirtless sportsmen." Kuji said nodding soberly. Kaioh smiled slowly.

"What?" Tenoh's voice seemed to rise an octave. "Where are you going find a sportsm-?" Michiru watched as he stopped to see thirty eyes looking pleadingly in his direction. "Whoa, hang on a second, I think I need to speak with my agent…"

"You're not shy are you?" Michiru mocked playfully.

"Ms. Kaioh, this will be fair when you have to be topless for the shoot." He said rudely.

"Oh!" Was all she could say before the three disappeared to the changing stalls.

"What happened to tasteful!" Tenoh spoke first.

"Uh, Sir," Shimano interrupted. "I'm sure I can sort this out with the director."

"Like hell…" Haruka was jolted as Shimano took her aside hurriedly, whispering impatiently.

"Ms., you can't over-react like this, when to all the world, toplessness shouldn't be such a big deal to a man."

"But I'm _not_…" she hissed back.

"I know that, and you know that, but I think it would be better if they don't, alright?"

"Fine. What's your plan?"

"Compromise. No one needs to see anything or know anything they don't have to… now go and get back there, take off whatever you have on underneath that jacket…"

"It's not a jacket…"

"Just do it!"

X

"Alright people, we're back!" Kuji entered smiling. Michiru pushed herself back from where she had been leaning against the car.

"We're going ahead?" She allowed an inch of hope.

"You got it." Tenoh moved back in front of the cameras looking serious.

"Ready, Mr. Tenoh?"

"Uh huh."

"What's happening?" Michiru looked to Kuji.

"Abs, no pecs." The aqua haired woman afforded her colleague a languid smile, who cursed under his breath, unzipping the top of the fire suit to reveal a meager line of the toned flesh of his torso.

"Oh, how unfortunate, I do so love chests…"Michiru giggled to get back at the cocky racer.

"That just sounds really gay." He scowled, clasping together his collar strangely.

"No, no!" Kuji exclaimed. "Michiru, it's brilliant!"

"We've got a deal." Tenoh narrowed his eyes.

"I know." Kuji shrugged. "Now I'm thinking the three-quarter view on the car, okay. Now If you two would move just in front of the driver's door, great. Come forward a bit. Mr. Tenoh if you'd just take half a step towards me. Excellent. Drop back your right shoulder. Good, hold that. Now, Michiru, if you'd turn slightly, perhaps just push your hair off your shoulder, lovely. Now take a step into him, yes, in front of his arm. Okay, now if you'd take your left, no right arm and place it over his shoulder… the other… hm." There was near a minute of silence as Kuji looked over the scene. Haruka was increasingly thankful that her co-worker was taking the shoot seriously enough not to drop her gaze back to her arm.

A spark caught in Kuji's expression.

"I have it!"

"Thank the gods." Haruka spoke.

"Michiru, if you'd move your arm down to his collar bone, just behind his jacket." She followed suit, surprised at the unusual softness of his skin.

"Actually, no, across over his chest…"

"Wai-" It was too late. Haruka mentally cursed a thousand times over. This was bad.

"Excellent. Brilliant expression, Michiru. Mr. Tenoh, you don't have to look so scared. Actually, could we get someone to pull open that top a bit, show off those abdominal muscles…" Haruka almost flipped.

"I'll… do it." Kaioh said quickly. Taking care not to open the fabric to the point that it was revealing, she then slid her hand back up along the other woman's torso. Smiling inexplicably at the novelty of her position.

"Are you alright?" She said with feigned innocence looking up to her co-worker.

The blonde opened her mouth wordlessly then looked back to the camera.

"Fantastic." Kuji spoke. "That's it, that's the shot." Sudden as a storm, the crew came alive, clicking and whirring. Haruka felt sick with anxiety. Michiru felt… strangely pleased with herself. Somehow surprised, somehow excited, and certainly no longer bored.

"Okay people, fantastic work today…" Kuji's voice continued to drone.

"You… can stop posing…" Haruka muttered, still frozen with the fear of flashing the entire crew.

"Oh…" Michiru suddenly retracted her hand. "Of course…"

"Everyone, please take a break, we'll be moving on to the next location soon…"

Haruka zipped up the suit and rubbed her temples momentarily.

"You did really well." The shorter woman grinned, though was not afforded a reply. "Were you… cold?"

"Okay! C'mon I think we need to talk." Haruka took the other woman by the hand, utterly incensed at being put into her current position, ignoring the interested onlookers.

They stopped around a secluded point beyond the stalls. Michiru took her time observing the foreign location of dirty concrete and remnants of racing-fan paraphernalia. Haruka paced, thoughts and scenarios charging through her brain, which seemed to clock over more slowly in the thickness of rage.

"Okay." She said finally. "How much do you want?"

"Sorry?" Michiru looked over mildly.

"To stop you from talking, how much do you want?"

"Why is this such an important secret anyway?"

Haruka stopped, moved her hands to the other woman's shoulders and caught her gaze.

"Ms. Kaioh, please. I don't need a counseling session, I don't need understanding or anything… I just need to know what it will take for you to… keep my secret."

"Call me Michiru."

"Fine, Michiru."

"It only seems appropriate that we should speak in closer terms…"

"Great, fine, it's Haruka, Tenoh Haruka, but…"

"…especially given that circumstances have become so much more intimate…"

"Michiru." She said haltingly.

"Yes?"

"Please do not screw with me right now."

"Haruka, I don't believe inadvertently feeling someone up constitutes such a term." She smiled.

"You aren't funny, you know?" The blonde folded her arms.

"Of course." she giggled.

"So?"

"So what do you want me to say? That I'm sorry it happened… because I don't know that I am…"

"No fine. It's all hilarious. Whatever. I didn't know that was going to happen, and you… I mean, before I could even say anything, you had…" Her words fell away.

"Touched you?"

"Gods." She held the bridge of her nose again.

"But you're, it's made out like you're such a playboy…? Is that all, all those women…?"

"The women are all for real. I just happen to be a play _girl_."

"I see… this is so fascinating…"

"It really isn't…"

"I don't think I would've guessed, only you are unusually pretty for a boy, and your skin is much softer…"

"Ms Kai… Michiru… sorry to interrupt the analysis, really, but I need to know my next season isn't going to lose serious sponsorship because my gender goes public…"

"Have dinner with me."

"I'm sorry?"

"I… I don't mean to blackmail you, I promise not to reveal anything about you either way, only…"

"Yes?"

"You're very intriguing…"

"Uh…"

"I… don't have anyone to spend Christmas Eve with, but if you do…"

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"No, it's not that… you don't have anyone to be with tonight? Are you kidding me?"

"No. Why?"

"I dunno. You look like you'd be married already…"

"Are you calling me old?"

"I? No! I mean, I can't imagine you wouldn't have anyone… You could easily take away any guy you met on the set today…"

"But I'd like to take you…"

"…Okay."

"There's nowhere you have to be?"

"Ha, trust me, I've never belonged to anyone."

"Except, maybe your agent…"

"Ah… he's going to be disappointed…"

"Why's that?"

"He expected you to have much higher standards…"

"He hasn't felt you up, I'm not sure he can comment."

Fin.


End file.
